


Take what you can get

by Higgystar



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl pining for Rick, M/M, Solo, prompts, unrequited Rickyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5053993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl catches Rick relieving some stress, and can't quite stop himself from watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take what you can get

They’ve all been stressed. It’s the end of the world as they know it; of course they’re all stressed. But Rick carries the most of it, and Daryl knows that. Stepping inside of Alexandria’s walls had felt like stepping into his own cage, but it was what they needed, what the group needed. So he trusts the judgement of the group, trusts Rick, trusts Aaron for some reason, even if he can’t trust this place just yet. It’s why he’s on edge, exploring every single inch of their house they’ve been gifted, trying to find anything out of place or a reason to leave.

It’s not that he wants to leave, he’s just not sure if he wants to stay either.

He feels uncomfortable with everybody drifting apart, there is no need to stay together, to stay within reach of each other now, and as the group begins to splinter off and explore, he feels more and more on edge. So he lingers, stays in the house, wanders through the place trying to find the catch, the problem, the thing that made it too good to be true. He can’t stomach exploring this whole place, not when he’s feeling this out of sorts with it all. Instead he finds himself hunting out Rick, wanting his advice, or maybe just to be in the presence of someone who was so sure of their decision to be here. If there was one person he could look to for strength, it was always Rick.

Daryl’s always been light on his feet, growing up in his home it was a skill that had to be learned fast, and with hunting he’d only refined it further. Already he’s learning their house, finding the parts that creak, keeping the entry and exit points in mind, thinking of where they had cover should they need it. It’s just outside the master bathroom that he hears it.

At first he ignores it. Thinks he’s hearing things, being stupid. There was nobody in the house except for he and Rick, so he must just be confused or something. But then he hears it again, a definite curse, a low groan and he knows that’s definitely Rick’s voice behind the door. They’ve been on the road for so long that his initial reaction is to prepare for a fight, to place a hand on the knife always at his side and get ready to break down the door if need be. But in the few seconds he takes to prepare himself, he hears it again, the same choked curse, another groan and he realises just how stupid he must be looking, prepared with a knife in a perfectly boring suburban home, just because of a little noise.

He’s not stupid, he knows exactly what Rick’s getting up to in there. Heck, it wasn’t like everybody else didn’t do the same the second they finally got some privacy. Maggie and Glenn had disappeared together, Abraham and Rosita had pretty much told everyone not to interrupt them, and heck he knows others in the group had taken care of things that had been ignored for too long. Shit Carl was a teenager, he’s surprised the kid had lasted so long.

Still he finds himself lingering behind the door, sliding his knife back away and leaning close enough to press an ear to the door. He can hear the shower running, the fear of using all their water now gone as Rick enjoys being clean for once, as well as other things. Daryl knows he should leave, Rick was just taking a time out for himself, didn’t need his insecure ass butting in on it all. But he can’t help it, they’ve been through so much together, lived in each other’s pockets for so long, really what’s one more thing?

Taking a deep breath he waits for another moan, a sign that Rick was far too occupied to even think of looking at the doorway, before he presses down on the handle. The door opens easily, brand new, never used, opening just enough for him to peer through and see inside the bathroom. It’s full of steam of course, making it even easier for him to stay unseen in the bathroom doorway as he keeps the door from opening all the way. He knows he shouldn’t, but he watches anyway.

Now Rick’s pants of pleasure aren’t obscured by the door, meaning he can hear him moan as he strokes himself without it being muffled. The glass of the shower is steamed up, far too fogged up for him to see anymore than a Rick shaped blur, but it’s enough. Because he can see how he’s moving, how he’s bucking his hips forwards, how only one of his arms is braced against the wall. Daryl can see where his other hand is, can tell by the motions that every guy knows. Thing is, he knows he should stop, he should leave and pretend this never happened. But yet, he stays where he is.

It’s hot in the bathroom, he can’t see much but it’s enough. He can tell from the motions, the noises, the wet slick sounds of Rick fucking his fist under the stream of the shower. It should be so wrong to be here, but he can’t help it. Daryl knows Rick, knows him so damned well, knows that he’ll never get a chance to see this uncensored by the fogged up glass. Heck, living on the road they knew you could die any minute, why not take this one risk, just once?

He’s nothing but a friend to Rick, maybe his right hand man as some would say, but that’s it. He’ll never be anything more, he knows team Rick bats for, and it certainly isn’t the same one that he’s on. So he’ll take this moment, log it away in his fantasies for those long nights when he can’t sleep and needs a distraction. Daryl makes sure to listen to every single noise made, every little groan or moan, every pant and muttered curse as Rick jerks himself off under the warm spray of water. He’ll never get more than this, so he makes sure to savour it.

Daryl knows he’s not experienced, and heck with the way he is, he’ll probably never get any experience, but he can have this. He can listen to those delicious noises Rick is making and pretend, just for a moment, that they’re because of him. It will never happen, but in his head he has Rick, Rick has him and it makes the days a little easier to bear. Sometimes he’ll imagine it, think about how Rick would kiss him, how the other man would take control of it all for him, give him a lead to follow and help him feel alive. He’d be lost of course, fumbling into kisses and trying to keep up. But Rick wouldn’t care, he’d just chuckle and kiss him harder, that new smoothly shaven face brushing against the scruff on his chin, making him feel the need to cling tighter to him.

Rick could have him. Could own him, do whatever he wanted to him, if only the other man was inclined that way. Daryl knows it won’t happen, but he can dream, he can take snippets of moments and pretend just for a while. He could think about being in that shower alongside Rick, being the one to run his fingers over his chest, down his abdomen until he could wrap his fingers about his cock and make him moan those sounds all over again. Already he’s hard in his pants, but the fear is still too real for him to even think of doing anything about it.

The other man is oblivious to it all, Rick either can’t see it or doesn’t want to see what Daryl feels for him. He’s okay with that. So long as he can still be here, be in the other man’s family, be a part of his, life, he’ll take it. Because he can snatch moments like this, where he can get just enough to sate him, enough to give him fantasies to get through. When Rick moans and arches up on his toes for a second to thrust that bit harder, he can memorise it for later, can add it to his normal fantasies and get through it alone. Daryl knows he’s panting a little as he watches, as he sees Rick breathe heavier, pant faster, as his hand speeds up around his cock and even through the mist of the bathroom, Daryl can almost feel the moment he comes undone.

They’ve all been tense for far too long, but with Rick, Daryl swears he can almost feel the moment he comes. It’s like he’s breathing a huge sigh of relief, and even if he’s hard as hell himself, getting to see Rick like that, arching into it all, smoothing his hand down his length to squeeze the last drops of come from his body, it’s enough. It has to be enough for him.

He will never tell Rick, will never put that pressure and unwanted attention on him when he knows Rick doesn’t see him as anything more than a brother. But he can have this moment, Daryl can log this away in his mind and keep it for the dream he pretends could ever become reality. Watching as Rick unwinds, getting to see the other man shake off the tension and rinse himself off beneath the spray of water, it gives him enough to work with. This was a moment that Rick had intended to have privately, but he’d intruded, taken the moment without regret and he was going to keep it with him to get through the future.

Before Rick can turn off the water, Daryl is moving, sliding the door shut again and making his way down the hall to the room he’d claimed as his own. The other man never had to know, never needed to know how sick he was in stealing away his privacy. Daryl ignores his body’s wants, he’s gotten good at denying himself what he wants, and tries to remember every detail he can. He may not ever get to have Rick like that, but he can pretend, he can imagine that it could happen if he was lucky enough. It keeps him going through the days. It’s not perfect, but it’s enough.

For the moment.


End file.
